


run little rabbit, run

by sirfeit



Series: bad endings 'verse [1]
Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: F/M, Non-Graphic Rape/Non-Con, Non-Graphic Violence, Rape/Non-con Elements, Torture, Whump
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-22
Updated: 2016-08-22
Packaged: 2018-08-10 07:48:18
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 711
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7836307
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sirfeit/pseuds/sirfeit
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>alternate bad ending to pain, penance birthright after ch9</p><p>ft. murphy whump</p>
            </blockquote>





	run little rabbit, run

**Author's Note:**

  * For [the_warm_beige_color](https://archiveofourown.org/users/the_warm_beige_color/gifts).



> pretty much only bad things happen in this and i'm very sorry about it
> 
> kind of vague past-spoilers for stuff that will be reworked/rewritten into nqf so idk how you feel about that
> 
> content warning for awful
> 
> title from '[rabbit](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ApUECvQ8gXU)' by matt duke

after he kills roan, the collar and the heavy chain don’t come off, like he had hoped, expected. ontari wraps the chain around her hand and takes the gun from his limp fingers. she gives some speech to the assemblage about how she is the true ruler or whatever now, and the collar is — not tight so much as it is heavy, as it is a _weight,_ a reminder, constantly.

he is kept in ontari’s stolen room, in the Commander’s chamber, the chain connecting to an iron ring in the wall. she kisses him and feeds him from her hands, whenever he gets any food.

it’s. it’s okay. she kisses him and she loves him in her hard, fierce, way, the only way she knows how. she holds him down and completes his tattoo with a blade instead of ink; discovers she likes that, the way he bleeds, the way he gasps but doesn’t, won’t scream.

days blur.

she lets him out of the Commander’s chambers once, to show him off to ambassadors or whatever. that night, she sits him down and removes the collar from his neck and cleans the skin underneath it, her fingers gentle but sure, and he doesn’t say anything.

it’s just that. he has never been made to participate in his own torture before. never had to pretend to like it.

it gets harder to keep food down. it gets harder to open his eyes in the morning. his wrists are rubbed raw, but it’s worse when she won’t tie him down. when he twitches underneath her and her knife, but it’s. less bad than being dead.

and some days he isn’t so sure. that it’s less bad than being dead.

—

he is asleep when there is a hand at his shoulder. he flinches awake and then braces for the choking tug, but it doesn’t come, so he opens his eyes again and —

emori.

he chokes on nothing anyway. he is crying. “hey,” she says, and then, “heyheyhey, lukotwar,” like those were any of the words he wants to hear. she wraps an arm around him. he can’t move. he doesn’t want to be held, but it’s like his voice has been taken from him. he’s not sure the last time he spoke.

her fingers are working at his collar, like he hasn’t tried a million times before to get it off.

the lock comes off. emori is careful in pulling it away from his skin. he reaches up, touches his own throat for the first time in weeks.

he still can’t seem to form a thank you. she touches his face (careful, careful) and she says “it’s okay,” but she’s lying. she takes him by the hand and leads him out to the throne room.

the Commander is there, her foot over ontari’s throat. and. where is clarke now? is she not here to see the fruits of his labor, his plan of revenge? is she not here to laugh at him?

maybe it’s for the best. the Commander hands him a knife and says, “this is your kill, lukotwar,” and he can’t hold it in his shaking fingers. he drops to his knees. ontari’s hand brushes against his own, and —

he drives the knife into her gut. she gasps, but doesn’t scream. he does it again, and again, and again, and his hands are covered in her black blood, and emori is at his shoulder, and she says, “that’s enough, lukotwar,” and he drops the knife, and she says: “John,” and he —

he doesn’t look at her.

\--

later, he will be able to pinpoint when he stops talking.

he is faceup on ontari’s bed. the only thing he is wearing is the collar. he can feel the weight of the chain more than anything else.

ontari has her knife out. she’s turning it over in her hands. murphy is bracing himself for pain. “you can’t tense up like that,” she scolds him. “it makes everything worse, you know that.”

he opens his mouth to bite something out at her, but then: she hooks the blade of her knife into his cheek, and he goes still. “stop talking,” she tells him. “i’m working.”

he obeys her. he’s not stupid. he doesn’t scream.

he never screams.

**Author's Note:**

> look sometimes i want murphy to suffer and sometimes i want him to have nice things
> 
> yr comments + tears are appreciated
> 
> happy fanfiction writers' appreciation day


End file.
